Page 58 of Fortress of Ambrose (House of Marionne #3)

Forty-Seven

Quell

It’s been two days since I destroyed the gate outside of Chateau Soleil, and I haven’t had the stomach to tell anyone. Not even Jordan. But I’ve hardly seen him. He’s been spending the entire day with Ube and Erla, and he hasn’t returned to my room and has had an excuse for dinner both nights.

Thankfully, the vines keep the gap in the wall reasonably covered.

I’ve drowned my shame in the library but can’t find a single book that mentions the roses.

The irony. Everyone looks at me as if I could actually serve as a good Headmistress, when the first thing I’ve done is destroy the protections the previous Headmistress put in place.

I need answers. We need as much between us and the Dragunhead as possible. I scoop up another pointless book and shove it in my bag and hunt for Dexler. She and Cuthers worked closest with my grandmother over the years. Maybe she knows something.

I find her overseeing a group repairing damaged chandeliers in the formal dining room.

“Headmistress,” one of them says before dipping into a bend that I realize is supposed to be a curtsy, the rim of her pink velvet dress skimming the floor. She grins. “Did I do it right?”

“Where did you get that dress? And who taught you how to—”

She frowns.

“Yes,” I say, realizing I’ve taken all the wind out of this girl’s sails. She can’t be much older than me, with streaked chestnut hair and intensely green eyes. “You did it just fine.”

“Maezre Dexler gave me the dress.”

“Quell.” Dexler glides the back of her hand across her forehead. “I was beginning to worry they’d trapped you in that room upstairs instead of just repairing the wall.”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment for the second time today. “Thank you for doing that.”

“Abby fixed up a bunch of old garments I found around the House.” She dusts her dress.

The one she wears today is finer than the one we found her in when we showed up.

This one is made of lush purple taffeta with silver threading.

“It’s starting to feel a bit more like home around here.

” She brushes my arm. “I hope you feel that way.”

I smile tightly, unsure how to tell her that when I think of what’s on the other side of this chaos we are in, I see Jordan, sand, and blue ocean. I want the others here to be alright, to have access to magic, but I won’t be roped into a life I didn’t choose.

“You’re doing a great job.” Making this place feel more like a home will help the others settle in.

All around, it is a win. I did notice, on my walk to and from the library each day, that there was less debris in the halls, more of the sconces were working, and the scorched walls in the foyer had been stained a beautiful glossy wood.

The House is transforming, and it’s like watching a person inches from death come back to life.

“Wait until you hear what else I’ve planned.

” Her lips pucker with excitement, and I’m relieved.

“I was able to get some of the maezres to agree to put on a few classes during the day so there’s something to study.

Since there’s a mixture of abilities and some with none, we’re doing an elixir session for anyone, one on Shifting, and I was going to see if I can find enough good silver to do an old-fashioned seven-course-meal session.

Like old times. For the little ones, I’m trying to find a good place on the grounds for a magical sensory station, where they can play with magical objects and see if it wakes up any dormant magic inside them.

Who knows, we may yet have someone emerge in all this chaos. ”

She is brilliant. “See? I’m not even needed around here.”

Dexler rambles on. “It’s already been more chipper.”

“Less fighting, for sure.” I only overheard a single yelling match in the last twenty-four hours, down from three the day before that.

“Just be sure they’re choosing to participate.

Don’t force them.” Some of them may want nothing to do with the Order’s traditions, rightfully so.

“Same with the clothes. It’s their choice, right? They can wear whatever they want.”

“Um, sure. Yes, of course.” She squeezes my arm, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so excited. “You haven’t even heard my wildest idea yet. Though I’m not quite sure we can pull it off. A ball!”

I blink. A thousand reasons why a formal dance seems like the most frivolous waste of time run through my mind. But her glee and the calmer atmosphere over the last day shut my mouth. If she believes putting on a dance is what the guests need, then so be it.

“Great.”

“You don’t think it’s bizarre, do you? At a time like this? When the world is such a mess?”

I shrug. “Maybe that’s when we need a ball most of all.”

She squeezes her hands to her chest. It is refreshing to see her not overwhelmed. I was beginning to feel bad for the woman. But she signed up for this life, overseeing a House. I didn’t.

“I did want to talk to you about my grandmother’s roses, if you don’t mind.”

She gives instructions to the others and leads me into the hall. “Alright, what exactly is it you’d like to know?”

“They protect the estate.”

“They never did until your grandmother died. But yes.”

“I also noticed that they take on toushana, absorbing it. And it causes them to grow, not be destroyed. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She pulls at the ribbon on her dress. “You start talking about that dark magic stuff and it gives me an uneasy feeling, Quell, I must tell you. In my day, we didn’t discuss such things.”

“My grandmother had toushana. You do know that, right?”

“I figured it out by going through her things after she died, trying to get her affairs in order.” Dexler looks away. “It felt wrong invading her privacy.”

“You were trying to help, it’s fine. Did you learn anything about the roses?”

“I learned how to trick them to let people inside. I also learned that they reproduce prolifically. Other than that, no. I did find a gardening journal your grandmother kept. She was big on documenting things. I have it in my office. I’ll drop it off in your room.”

I thank her again and round the corner, where I spot Ube leaned against the wall. I freeze and clear my throat. “How long have you been waiting here, Ube, is it?”

“Yes. And not too long.”

But long enough.

His propped-up foot finds the floor. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation about the roses.”

“Yes, and?”

He rubs his palms against his pockets. “I, uh, also saw you the other day at the garden wall. I happened to be leaving the Sunrise Corridor and looked out and noticed you were having trouble with the gate. There’s a hole in it, I think.”

I search him for dishonesty.

“I think I can help.”

I can’t afford to turn down any knowledge that could help keep us better insulated. “I’m listening.”

“The roses feed on toushana, like normal roses feed on water. If they’re overwatered, they’ll die. Much like if the black roses get too much toushana at once, they’ll decay. Is that what happened?”

I nod. His countenance brightens as he pulls a paper from his pocket.

“Here, I drew a diagram for you. Only give each flower toushana in proportion to its size. Instead of feeding it lots of toushana at once, feed it toushana in small doses over several hours, even several days. It’ll let the petals absorb the magic more slowly.

” He flips the paper over. “And roses are not the only thing that can absorb magic that way. But they have to be the purest metals. A gate won’t work. Jewelry usually works better.”

How closely was he watching me? The picture he’s drawn also has a list of other ideas. I take the paper with narrowed eyes.

“I’ll look into all you’ve said. I won’t keep you.” I leave him there, equally moved at this help and creeped out. Was that him in the window? It had to be.

When I clear the dorm wings, I spot Jordan passing the stairs and dash after him.

“Jordan!”

“Quell, there you are.” He hurries toward me but stops suddenly to keep some distance between us.

“You say that as if we don’t live in the same house. Why haven’t I seen you in two days?”

“I’ve been busy. So have you. But there’s something we need to talk about.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls an envelope addressed to him. “Ellery wants to see me.”

I go cold all over. Ellery Ambrose, Nore’s brother, who has their mother prisoner or something wild like that.

“He sent this two days ago. I needed to wrap my head around it and think before I brought it to you. I’m going to meet with him.”

“You’re absolutely not going to leave here and meet with him. I am breaking my brain trying to make this place safer for everyone, but mainly you and all magic. And you want to go waltzing out there? You already have a target on your back.”

“I understand it’s a risk. But he could have much-needed news about the Immortality Scroll. I have all this power inside me, Quell, if I have to, I will use it. He wants to meet tomorrow at Monument Park. I can take someone with me if that gives you peace of mind.”

“Jordan, no. I order it. As your Headmistress.”

“Oh, now you’re my Headmistress?” he asks, teasing me.

“I’ve always been your head mistress.”

He bites his lip, and it makes me want to kiss him.

“Ellery is working against your brother and Nore, which sort of makes him our enemy, too. You think the Dragunhead hasn’t figured that out?”

He strokes his chin. I grab the note from him, and our fingers brush, stealing the moment. His eyes are an odd shade of green today, more bluish than usual. There’s fatigue in his smile, tired lines hugging his eyes.

“That letter tells us everything we need to know. Ellery is desperate. He needs help. He has no allies. There’s no way the Dragunhead is telling him to set this up to trap you.

He has been trying to draw you out of hiding all this time.

If he thought a meeting with Ellery would do it, wouldn’t he have done that a long time ago?

This is a cry for help from Ellery, which you’re not going to give him.

You only risk getting into some kind of fight with him that risks magic. ”

His silence lets me know I’ve convinced him.

“Fine, I won’t meet him. I don’t deserve you. Have I told you that lately?”

“Not nearly enough.”

He blows me an air-kiss, and I resist the urge to run my fingers along his jaw, to cup the back of his neck and pull his mouth down to mine. I stare at his lips, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s talking again.

“I did also write to Yagrin,” he says. “We have to update him and get an update. I won’t put that in a letter.”

My heart pumps harder. He is right.

“Did he say he’d meet?”

“I haven’t heard back yet.”

“We’ll have to plan it just right. Maybe late at night so that no one knows you’re gone. And you can be back before sunrise. No one can know you’re leaving.”

“You speak as if you don’t trust some of these wonderfully kind and genuine safe house people we’ve brought here.”

“You’re mocking me.” My thoughts move to Ube. Then Yani. “I’m just being cautious.”

“I like that.” He closes most of the distance between us. His scent lathers me in a need to touch him. Tonight he smells pungent, like dirt, sweat, and something underneath. His finger finds my chin, and it takes my breath away.

He’s touching me.

There’s no fear in his eyes, only confidence. He slides his finger from my chin down my neck, painfully slow, stopping at my collarbone. Every place he touches turns to fire.

“You haven’t come back to my room. Even to sleep on the chaise. Why?”

I know the answer—he is not convinced it’s safe to be so near me for longer stretches of time.

“We will have dinner soon. Just us.”

“I will hold you to it.”

A wicked smirk bows his lips. “Please do.”

I walk him to his dorm, where he insists on sleeping, and tell him about my horrible time with the gate, Ube’s advice, the eerie feeling I had about him lurking. Then I immediately felt bad. Ube has only offered help. Unlike others. I also mention Dexler’s improvements, which he’s noticed as well.

“I’m going to try his recommendation first thing tomorrow.”

“He and his sister are sharp. It’ll probably work.”

“Does that make you trust them more? Can you see them being part of a House permanently?”

“I trust no one. Our House is you and me, as far as I’m concerned.”

I fold my arms when we reach his room, perturbed he still hasn’t budged on his ideas about what happens after we save magic. We have to do something with the magic. Shouldn’t we leave things better in the Order than we found it? More equitable.

I glare at the ornate walls and polished decor we pass.

It screams Darragh Marionne. She was the House.

And the House was her. Magic is in our hands.

We can mold it into something better. But we don’t have to hold it in our hands forever.

Whatever we do, it starts with trust. Without that, we can’t build anything.

“You’re working with Ube on the most important procedure of our lives. We have to know if he’s trustworthy. And if he is, you need to treat him that way. Then there’s Yani.” She lingers in the shadows. “I don’t like her, Jordan.”

“I’ve told you, I can handle Yani. She is desperate to please. That could be useful.”

“No. Not ever. Period.”

“But you’re ready to hand over a whole House to Willam and Knox? Who’ve teamed up with good Darkbearers, so they say, and lied to us about it? Who are lying to their own people about it as we speak?”

Footsteps tap in the distance.

“We’re not supposed to be fighting about this, remember?” he says.

My jaw works and an idea strikes me. “You can learn a lot about a person when you show them a little favor.” I will show him how Ube and Erla have done nothing but comply with us uprooting them and forcing them to help us with the Sphere’s magic.

If anyone deserves a chance to prove themselves, it’s them.

“What are you suggesting?”

“Dexler’s gotten the dining room almost fully repaired. Let’s christen it with a nice dinner. We’ll invite each of them: Ube; his sister, Erla; and Yaniselle.” Talking with Ube and Erla in an unpressured situation will help him see what I see in them—and what I see in Yaniselle.

“Fine.” Jordan opens his mouth but shuts it. And it feels like a win.